779 Miles Apart

Drunken

A/N: heyyyy I got more snacks so I'm in the mood to write lol let's get this movin

Dream had never been in Europe before. And now here he was, exiting the airplane and stepping into the London airport. Everything looked the same, and yet so different from the US. The air itself smelt very different, it was going to take some getting used to. 

The very first thing he did was text Sapnap and let him know he'd made it. Then he navigated his way through the airport and to baggage claim. He waited til he saw his suitcase, grabbed it, and then made his way outside. George didn't even know Dream was coming, so Dream had to take a cab back to George's place. Wilbur had provided Dream with the address, and Dream was praying it was the right one.

A cab came and Dream placed his suitcase in the trunk and got in the back. The car drive was quiet except for the soft radio, but Dream wasn't paying attention to that. He was staring out the window, taking in the view of the city. The different scenery was a good way to keep him distracted from the fact that he was on his way to see George.

He had no idea what to expect. He'd seen George just a mere five days ago, but George had decided to become a drunk in those five days. Everything felt so different even though hardly any time had passed. He just had to tell himself everything was going to be okay.

It didn't take long before the cab found its way over to the curb. On either side of the street were tall buildings, all which appeared to be apartments. Dream paid, got out, and grabbed his suitcase. The cab drove away as Dream stepped onto the sidewalk. He started up at the building in front of him. Here goes nothing.

Dream made his way over to the sign to make sure he was at the right place. Yeah, that was the same address Wilbur had given him. He turned and started making his way up the stairs until he found the right apartment number. He stood outside the door for a moment. Slowly, he inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. It was all going to be okay.

He knocked.

There was a dog barking, and then an aggressive shhh brought the barking to a stop. Every second felt like an hour to Dream, waiting there painfully for someone to come to the door. Would it be George? He sure hoped so. It felt like eons that he just stood there.

The door opened.

Standing before Dream was a disaster. Hair was a mess, the circles under his eyes were dark, his lips were extremely chapped, and he looked like a boney tooth pick underneath his t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Dream?" George's voice was hoarse.

"George, what the heck?" Dream demanded. He looked worse than Dream had imagined, and it had only been five days.

George moved to close the door, but Dream grabbed it and forced his way into the apartment. Bottles lined the counters of the kitchen he'd just walked into. He could see even more into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" George demanded angrily. "You're supposed to be in America!"

"Came to help you," Dream snapped back. "Just look at you, you're a mess!"

George's fingers dug into his palms. "Yeah, all cause I came to see you," George said the words with such distaste they nearly stung Dream.

"You don't mean that," Dream said. "You're just drunk."

"Drunk or not, I'm being honest," George replied. "You shouldn't have come."

Dream stared at him. He wasn't talking to George. He was talking to some drunk guy. There was only one way to get George back.

"Come on," Dream said gently. "We'll talk after you rest."

George was onto his plan. "You just want to wait until I'm done being drunk," he said. "Guess what, Dream? It's going to be the same either way. Let's get it over with."

Dream gritted his teeth. He wasn't a fan of drunk George. "Fine, we'll talk on the couch," he said. He had a back up plan. George followed Dream with lots of angry noises to the living room. 

"Okay, I can't - I'm taking all these bottles to the kitchen," Dream said, grabbing all the bottles. "Then we'll talk." George rolled his eyes, but let Dream pick up the bottles and carry them to the kitchen. 

He waited for George to sit down, facing away from him, and began throwing the empty bottles into George's garbage. Once those ones were gone, he was onto pouring the rest of the alcohol down his drain.

"What are you-" George turned around. "WHAT THE-" He got up and ran to the kitchen, trying to rip the bottle out of Dream's hands. "Stop!"

"George, no!" Dream pushed George off of him, throwing away the now empty bottle and moving onto the next. There were only three left.

"Dream, what is wrong with you?" George shouted, returning to Dream and attempting to rip the bottle from his grasp.

"You don't need this, George!" Dream exclaimed. The bottle emptied and Dream went for the next one. George was getting smarter about grabbing it, so Dream took the only option he saw left. He ripped the bottle away from George and threw it, watching it shatter against the kitchen cupboards and alcohol splatter the cupboards and floor.

"DREAM!" George screamed.

Dream grabbed the last bottle and did the same. "No more, George," he said, turning to his friend.

George's face was red and his eyes were brimmed with drunk, angry tears. "I HATE YOU!" George screamed at him, backing away from Dream. "I HATE YOU! I hate you. I..." his voice trained off as he hit the wall, sinking to the floor and staring at the shattered glass on the ground.

Dream didn't move. He stood there, staring at the drunk man before him. This wasn't his George. He wasn't going to move to comfort him until he was back to being himself. So there they were, George crying angrily on the kitchen floor whilst Dream stood there, looking around at the mess.

Eventually George stopped crying and Dream swept up the glass shards and cleaned the cupboards and floors. They didn't talk to one another. George was angry and Dream didn't want to talk to drunk George. Once George looked like he was going to fall asleep, Dream managed to talk him into going to his bed. He helped George to his bed and sat there until George had fallen asleep.

Dream sat there for a little longer, staring around at the unfamiliar and yet familiar room and listening to George's heavy breathing. George's breathing had become so familiar in the past couple weeks and it was nice to be with him again, despite the awful circumstances. Dream glanced back down at George. Laying there peacefully, that was Dream's George.

He got up and left George to sleep peacefully. He made his way back to the kitchen and began cleaning up all the mess that had been in there from the last time George had cleaned it. The amount of food in the fridge was disappointing, so Dream took it upon himself to figure out if he could door-dash groceries in the UK.

He was here to take care of George, and he was going to do just that.